


First Bite

by ReneeLaRoux



Series: The Taste of Blood [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, F/M, Hurt, Kissing, Making Out, Masturbation, Underage - Freeform, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeLaRoux/pseuds/ReneeLaRoux
Summary: “You’ve been ill, Sire,” Gaius told him, ignoring the way the liquid dripped from Arthur’s chin.“Ill?” Arthur tilted the goblet to catch every last drop.“You’re a Blood Drinker, Sire.”(Prequel to "The Taste of Blood")





	First Bite

     “But Father, I don’t want to marry Lady Linia!”

    “Arthur, you are the sole heir to the throne. You must marry, and you’d be lucky to make such a match as with Lord Alister’s daughter.”

    “But I’m barely fourteen summers! I’ve never even met her!”

    “I don’t want to hear another word about it, Arthur!” Uther Pendragon, red-faced and fuming, stormed from his son’s chambers with a slam of the door. Arthur Pendragon grabbed the closest thing he could find and hurled it in a fit of anger. The pewter goblet clanged against the door and clattered to the floor, water splashing everywhere. Arthur stood in the center of the room, chest heaving, tears hot on his cheeks. 

                                                                                              -     -     -

    Lord Alister arrived the following morning, accompanied by his daughter, Lady Linia, and a horde of advisors and servants. Alister was technically Steward of neighboring Gwynedd, once the former King’s most trusted counselor and closest friend, but his kingdom was steadily growing in power and wealth. He had long been a friend to Camelot, and Uther often spoke of building up their alliance, though this was the first time Arthur had heard of  _ his _ potential part in this relationship. Lady Linia was older than Arthur by three years, and according to Uther she was everything a young man could want in a wife. Which, of course, meant she was nothing Arthur wanted in a wife. He didn’t even  _ want _ a wife. She was polite and reserved and delicate, with a voice so soft he had to strain to hear it. She had dull blonde hair and ordinary brown eyes, and while he supposed she was pleasant to look at she didn’t elicit any response in him other than boredom. Maybe it was because he had grown up with Morgana, who was just a year younger but already so passionate and strong-willed and energetic. He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with a wife who couldn’t hold a conversation, or who couldn’t speak her mind. Nevertheless, he willed himself to play the part of the gracious host, for his father’s sake. 

    The delegation from Gwynedd had arrived just before sundown on a late spring Tuesday. Due to their long journey and the late hour, the guests were greeted and quickly shown their chambers, with a warm evening meal being sent so they could dine in peace. It wasn’t until the following day that the castle seemed to come alive with the bustle of extra bodies. Arthur and Linia were thrown together at every turn, per their meddling fathers. They sat together at breakfast in the great hall, Arthur gave Linia a tour of the castle and the gardens, and they joined Morgana on her afternoon ride through the forest. It wasn’t  _ horrible _ (Arthur had been expecting far worse), but he would have much rather spent the day in training with the other squires, or practicing his sword work with Sir Leon. Lady Linia was nearly impossible to read; he could not tell whether she was interested in him, or whether she had grown tired of his fourteen-year-old self. She hardly spoke unless she was spoken to, and even then it was like pulling teeth. About a half-hour into their ride, Morgana had grown so bored of Linia’s lackluster personality that she had left the two of them behind and took off in a gallop, much to the chagrin of her guard. 

    The first thing Arthur did when they returned to the castle was bid Lady Linia farewell, claiming he needed to prepare for that evening’s feast. It wasn’t a total lie - he would be needing a bath - but any excuse to be rid of her for a few hours was good enough for him. He was headed up the stairs to his chambers when he collided with someone rounding the corner. After the chaotic few seconds of righting himself and the other person, and handing back a few dropped towels, Arthur finally got a good look at the person he’d crashed into. He gasped before he could stop himself. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen was staring back at him, smiling shyly. 

    “H-hi,” he said, praying his voice wouldn’t crack like it had the rude habit of doing.

    “Good afternoon, Sire,” the woman curtsied low, eyes trained on the floor.

    “Arthur,” he took the hand that had come up to brush the hair from her eyes and bowed politely. 

    “Melane, your Highness. Lady Linia’s maid.”

    She truly was stunning. Fair skin sprinkled with freckles, wild red curls falling down her shoulders, the bluest eyes he’d ever seen...he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She smiled again and his stomach fluttered. Her hand was so soft, so warm in his, and he began to wonder what else might feel soft and warm under his fingers…

    “I must return to my duties, Sire,” she bowed her head.

    “Of course,” he stammered. With one last curtsy, she was gone.

    “Wow,” he breathed, reaching down to adjust the bulge in his trousers. 

    He ran the rest of the way back to his chambers and flung himself on his bed. Untying the laces of his breeches, he pushed the trousers to his knees and took his hardened cock into his hand. As he stroked his heated flesh he called to memory the gorgeous maid, Melane. He wanted to tangle his fingers in her wild curls as he crushed his lips against her full, pouty ones. He wanted to pull her curvy body into his arms and feel her bosom against his chest. He had never been with a woman, but as he teased the head of his cock all he could do was imagine her mouth on it. Oh, how good would her tongue feel as it lapped up the leaking fluid! He let out a moan - he couldn’t remember ever being this hard, and it was all because of this servant girl. Unable to hold off any longer, he grasped his cock in hand once more and began to strip it with fervor. His free hand roamed his chest, brushing his nipples, before trailing down to cup his balls. That’s how he came just a minute later, pumping his cock and rolling his balls between his fingers until he painted his chest in ribbons of hot seed. Panting, he grabbed an old shirt from the floor beside his bed and wiped himself clean. Lacing up his breeches once more, he let himself drift into a pleasant sleep.

    He woke an hour later when his manservant, Josef, arrived to prepare his bath. Arthur hurriedly stuffed his soiled shirt under the covers before jumping out of bed and allowing Josef to undress him. The next hour was a blur - he bathed as thoroughly as he could, wanting to look and smell pleasant should he see Melane again. Next, he was dried and clothed in regal black trousers, a black shirt and a Pendragon red overcoat. As he was adjusting the simple silver circlet atop his head, a knock came at the door. It was one of his father’s servants come to summon him to the King’s chambers. 

    His father was being dressed when he entered.

    “Ah, Arthur,” he smiled as his son came to stand before him. “How was your day with Lady Linia?”

    “It was fine, father,” Arthur shrugged his shoulders. “I took her for a tour of the castle, and then we went for a ride with Morgana.”

    “You must be pleased that she rides! What do you think of the young woman?”

    “She’s very respectable. A bit quiet. It’s hard to tell how she feels about me.”

    “That’s usually the case, son. A good woman is reserved and doesn’t give too much of herself away in the beginning. Your mother hardly spoke a word the day we first met.” Uther’s eyes softened at the mention of Ygraine.

    “Really?” Arthur tried not to sound too hopeful - he so rarely heard about his mother, and he was afraid his father would stiffen up and stop talking.

    “Oh yes, she was so shy! Neither of us wanted to meet, but our parents had insisted. But I came to see the wisdom and kindness behind the shyness, and somehow she saw something in me that made her want to marry me.” Uther turned his gaze back to his son. “That’s all I want for you, Arthur - to find a woman who makes you a better man and a better king, the way your mother did for me.”

    “I’ll try my best, Father,” Arthur promised. He might not always agree with him, but he knew his father always had his best interest at heart. He at least owed it to him to at least try to find a good wife, he supposed.

    It would have been a lot easier if he wasn’t a fourteen year old boy in the throes of puberty and hormones. Oh, he tried to focus on Lady Linia and attempted to keep up conversation with her. He tried to smile and turn his gaze upon her often. But his eyes kept drifting to the back corner, where all of the maid- and menservants were waiting to attend their mistresses and masters. That’s where  _ she _ was. The woman who had instantly become the object of his fantasies.  _ Melane _ . She must have felt his stare, because she turned her eyes to his and blushed, smiling softly. Oh, wasn’t that pretty! She was biting her lip now. Did she realize what she was doing to him?

    “Isn’t that right, Arthur? Arthur?” Uther was frowning slightly at him.

    “I’m sorry, what?” Arthur shook his head to clear his thoughts. He blinked up at his father. 

    “Are you feeling alright, son?”

    “No, no I’m not feeling well at all, father.” It was the truth - he felt hot and sweaty and jittery and his stomach felt funny. He must have looked quite ill, because his father patted him on the shoulder and said,

     “You should go rest, Arthur.” 

    Arthur didn’t bother protesting or questioning his father’s sudden concern toward him (he had forced Arthur to sit through feasts and meetings while he suffered with much worse), he simply stood on somewhat wobbly legs and headed to the hall. Josef was hot on his heels, but Arthur instructed him to stay and attend to the party. 

    “I can undress and get into bed myself,” Arthur snapped. Josef bowed and returned to his station.

    Arthur was nearly to his chamber door when a soft voice stopped him in his tracks.

    “My liege.” 

    “Melane,” he turned to see the maidservant standing timidly near the staircase landing. 

    “You left early from the feast,” she murmured, taking a few steps closer.

    “I...I wasn’t well,” he rasped. “I thought it best if I retired for the evening.”

    “I see. Is there anything I can do for you, my Lord?” Melane closed the gap between them and gazed up into his eyes. “What would you like me to do, Prince Arthur?”

    His name on her lips sounded like divinity itself. He wanted to taste those lips, more than anything. He couldn’t remember ever wanting something so badly. Before he could catch himself he whispered,

    “Will you kiss me?” 

    “Your wish is my command, Sire,” she stepped closer until her breasts were brushing against his chest. She leaned in until he could feel her breath against his neck. One hand reached up to stroke his jaw, still soft from childhood but promising to sharpen with time. The moment her lips touched his, any logical thought he might have had flew out the nearest window. Her lips were warm and so soft and they set his nerves on fire. He’d never been kissed like this, never felt a woman’s mouth on his, never felt the intense desire for  _ more _ the way he did now. He wished she would never stop kissing him!

    Arthur wasn’t sure how long they stood in the hallway like that. All he knew was that she was teasing her tongue against the seam of his lips, looking for entrance. All he knew was that her hot, wet tongue was exploring his mouth with practiced ease. All he knew was her other hand, the one not buried in his hair, was stroking his erection through his trousers. All he knew was he was in heaven.

    Which was why when her lips left his and trailed down his jaw, he didn’t protest one bit. As her lips brushed against his neck and pressed delicate kisses there, he just sighed and held her tighter. The nuzzle of her nose against his tender skin felt so intimate. She began sucking a spot, making him groan. Gods, if she kept doing that...he was so close...just a little harder…

    Pain, white hot and blinding, stopped his impending orgasm in its tracks. It was searing, like someone had poured fire into his veins. It was the last thing he remembered, the last thing he felt.

                                                                                            -     -     -

    Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot, would not remember anything for another two weeks. His return to consciousness was slow and difficult - it came and went at first, giving him just snippets of faces and rage and desperate hunger. Eventually the world came into focus again. His vision cleared to reveal colors and shapes and images. Noises that had previously been a jumbled, chaotic mess began sounding more like human voices and doors closing and feet shuffling across the floor. Most intense of all was what he was able to smell. 

    Something rich, something sweet. Something that made his mouth water. Oh, how it called to him! How it woke in him a hunger so strong it was akin to lust. It was overpowering, all consuming...

    “Sire?” 

    “Gaius?” Arthur turned to see the elderly Court Physician looming over him, apprehension written on his lined face.

    “Are you present, Sire?”

    “Wh-What are you talking about?” Arthur sat up in bed, leaning closer to Gaius. Was it the old man who smelled so divine?.

    “You’ve been out of your mind, Sire,” Gaius said softly. “You were attacked...you’ve been very ill.”

    “I’m hungry, Gaius,” Arthur said suddenly. Indeed, he was ravenous. His stomach twisted with it. He gasped and clutched at his abdomen. It was too much to handle. “Please!”

    “Here, I’m afraid this isn’t quite what you’re after, but it’ll have to do,” Gaius passed him a goblet filled with a warm liquid. Sniffing, Arthur identified it as something he needed, desperately. Gaius was right - it wasn’t quite what he wanted. It wasn’t as rich, wasn’t as sweet as what he’d been smelling just moments before. But his stomach lurched again and he felt a growl rip through his throat. Without a second thought, he began gulping down the precious liquid like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

    Oh, but it hit the spot! Like a dying man tasting water again, like a fire being doused, like the most horrendous itch being scratched! He groaned, barely taking a breath as he drained the cup. 

    “As I said, you’ve been ill, Sire,” Gaius told him, ignoring the way the liquid dripped from Arthur’s chin. 

    “Ill?” Arthur tilted the goblet to catch every last drop. When he realized the finger he’d been swirling around the inside of the goblet had come out red, he gasped and stared up at Gaius with horrified eyes.

    “You’re a Blood Drinker, Sire.”

    A metallic clang filled the room as the goblet tumbled to the floor, blood droplets sprinkling the stone.


End file.
